Prologue
Troy Fairglass held a bouquet of zinnias in his hands, Kate’s favourite flowers for this time of year. He’d been trying to catch Kate Potter’s eye for a while, yet the medical examiner seemed oblivious to his obvious flirtation. You couldn’t get more obvious than flowers, right?
Kate had invited him over to watch a film, but he was almost certain the invitation wasas friends. If that’s all she wanted, he’d accept it, but he wassurehe’d seen a warm glance, a coy smile, at least a couple of times. And she’d blushed like hell when his fingers touched hers the last time they met at the Storyhouse.
He was still thinking of that silken touch when someone stepped out of the shadows.
A dryad.
Troy automatically gave him a friendly tilt of his lips, but it faded slowly when it wasn’t returned. Instead, the dryad reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and flicked the sharp edge out with intent.
Dryad assassins were among the deadliest in the Other realm and Troy’s heart started to pound, even as he hoped against hope that this was nothing more than a robbery. Maybe he could chuck him his watch and this would all be over.
‘Whoa, mate. I don’t want any trouble.’ Troy held up his hands, bouquet and all, and froze where he stood.
The dryad smirked. ‘Ah well, sorry about that. But it’s trouble you’ll be getting. Your father is a busy man, Troy. And I want a chat with him.’
Some tension slid away. The dryad was a threat, nothing more. If he wanted to talk with Father, he was welcome to do so. His father could more than handle himself.
Troy licked his lips. ‘I can sort that. I can arrange a chat with my father. Just … lower the weapon.’
The dryad’s smirk grew. ‘I don’t think so, Troy.’ The green-skinned man looked towards the steps of Kate’s home. ‘I think I’ll go in and visit your little bitch. Teach her how a real man fucks.’
Fear and anger came swiftly, eclipsing all rational thought. ‘Don’t you fucking touch her, you bastard! Don’t you fucking dare.’
‘Oh,’ the man mocked, ‘but I do dare.’ He took a step towards Kate’s home and then another.
Troy could hear her dogs barking. They knew something was wrong.
Fuck!
The dryad would probably gut the dogs too. All of the Other knew dryad assassins were feral creatures. They had twisted their own nature too greatly to become feared, and Troy found he believed the dryad utterly. The assassin would walk into that house full of Disney cheer and rape Kate.
Troy didn’t hesitate. The IR rose within him. He drew his magic up and wrapped it around his fist, giving him extra strength. Then he ploughed his fist towards the dryad’s smirking face.
The knife remained in the dryad’s hand, but he made no move to swing it at Troy, and somewhere in his mind, that struck him as odd, even as his fist struck the dryad’s nose. With a satisfying crunch, blood began to flow.
A blonde vampyr walked past, gave a lick of her beautiful lips at the scent of blood in the air, and – with admirable restraint – kept on walking.
The dryad laughed, focused on his mer aggressor. ‘Come now, Troy. You can do better than that. Youneedto do better than that. A punch won’t stop me. Nothing is going to stop me. I’m going to fuck her intwo.Then I’m going to choke the life out of her pretty little neck.’The dryad’s green-skinned hand touched the bouquet, and the flowers shrivelled, wilted and died. ‘Just. Like. That. You can’t stop me. You’re a bleeding heart. I’ve been watching you. You’re far too nice, Your Highness. Has anyone ever told you that? I expected a whole lot more from the seventh son of a mer king. A whole lot more.’ He smiled. ‘Poor little Kate. She’s going toscream.’
The merman pulled his fist back and pummelled the dryad, even as the crazy bastard laughed.
Not once did the dryad use his blade.
Troy heard the moment his fist snapped the dryad’s spinal cord.
The fucker stopped laughing.
The dryad couldn’t hurt Kate now, not dead. Relief streamed in. This would be an unholy mess, but Father would keep him out of Wraithmore. And Kate? She would be safe.
He paused, fist still raised, still panting, when something unseenhithim, like a strike to the solar plexus.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t pull air into his lungs. And his head. His headscreamed.Agony like nothing he’d ever felt poured over him as somethingcrawledinto him. His thoughts fractured and slid sideways as something else reached for the controls.
How obliging of you,a new voice sneered in his head.I’d grown incredibly bored of Aspen’s tiresome whinging. And his body was downright pathetic. How anyone is supposed to inspire fear in such a weak body is beyond me.
Without his knowledge or consent, Troy’s shoulders rolled back and his panting stopped, like a switch had been thrown.
